


A Perfect Lie

by Sombre



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Envy Needs a Hug, M/M, One Shot, One-Sided Relationship, Poor Envy, Romance, Stalker!Envy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-22
Updated: 2013-05-22
Packaged: 2017-12-12 16:33:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/813657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sombre/pseuds/Sombre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Envy knew he would never be anything more to him. It was a cold fact nothing in the world could fix. But even through all the self-loathing and half-hearted disgust, all he wanted was to lie down next to the boy and bury his face in his chest, not really sleeping, but imagining what it would be like to have the alchemist snuggle him back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Perfect Lie

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [I Love Him](https://archiveofourown.org/works/470626) by [lichenglie (sungyeol)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sungyeol/pseuds/lichenglie). 



> Story is slightly AU with much further progressed relationships before certain events in the canon.

It was said that only hope could create the greatest despair. If one did not hope, one could not be disappointed.

It was why those humans would always be so pathetic.

Leaving themselves open to things like love, camaraderie, kindness. No wonder they got themselves into so many problems. It was practically like walking around suicidal. But he knew better than that; he prided himself on it. He’d become no victim of some sickly human emotion. Despair was _his_ to give, humans’ most cherished things _his_ to take away. Especially that which he could never have himself.

But there were exceptions to every rule; there were things you could not take away, because they belonged to no one—things you could not destroy, because it was not in your power to.

Envy knew these things existed and hated them. Hated because he wanted so badly. It was as if Life itself were flipping him off, adding insult to injury, because even the thoroughly crafted denials and reassertions of reality couldn’t stop him from wanting what he knew he shouldn’t.

Headstrong and passionate. Vulgar but protective. Determined. Beautiful. Before he knew it, admiration had wormed its way inside his skull, expanding with each thought until it was difficult not to pin the boy to the floor and kiss him madly on sight.

The moment he realized he had fallen for Edward Elric was the same in which he should have killed himself. It was the set-up for the greatest despair that no amount of denial could prepare him for, a game he could not ever hope to win.

Instead, he had stepped forward to meet it.

 

Always astute and the most attentive to him, Lust knew where his attention was directed. She never said a word, but anytime Envy let something slip about the ‘little pipsqueak’, her eyes would flutter over just so sly and knowingly, the briefest of smirks on her lips. She knew he would never dare vocalize it, and Envy wasn’t looking for approval. But on one of those days when his frustration was particularly bad, and his muscles tensed at his every step, when every sentence spoken to him was like a fight-provoking insult, Lust knew just what to say to dissolve his irritation. Near-whispers, really, like a purring cat preparing to pounce.

“Just fuck him, and see if you still want him then.”

Words dropped in passing, as casually as atomic bombs. He turned and she’d disappeared but the damage remained, and all at once his body collapsed into a lethargic slump. That he could rid himself of the desire that way he hadn’t considered. But was that really the way to do it? And if it only made him want the brat more, what then?

The tension returned five-fold. Envy spat and punched a wall, the iron yielding easily to his strength.

Damn Lust.

 

  
He avoided her for weeks and kept their conversation minimal, which was fine because the homunculi didn’t talk between themselves much anyway. Lust understood but never failed to catch his eye once each day, as if to confirm whether or not he’d taken her up on his advice. And he’d been damn close to it, too, but there was a reason why he wasn’t named Lust.

He had felt stupid that day, stupid and tactless and desperate and _weak_. But he went along with his plan because in the end, he was still taking what he wanted with no one’s consent but his own. If the pipsqueak got angry, disgusted, even, then so be it. He looked better with a scowl on his face, anyway.

That’s what he was thinking when he transformed into one of the military’s cafeteria attendants and contrived an instance to slip something into Elric’s food. Honestly, humans were such fools. Sneaking an unconscious Edward out of his room an hour later was almost easier than breathing. Especially after first disposing of his clingy younger brother by disguising himself as some old lady with a lost kitten in need of finding. Envy had chuckled at that one. Simply pathetic.

But then it was just him and Ed in that abandoned warehouse, and Envy hesitated.

It was damn _ridiculous_ , all of it, his sitting there flinching and staring and looking away. He’d _murdered_ people, hundreds, _thousands_ , manipulated them to watch them bleed and scream. And it felt _so good_ watching their scared little expressions, seeing the horror flicker across their eyes like flames dancing on dry wood.

So then why, _why_ was he so tense? What the hell was he so afraid of?

He’d come here for one goddamn thing, and he was going to _get_ it.

Envy laid Edward down flat on his back. Unbuttoned his jacket, unzipped his pants. Stripped him of everything but his undershirt and boxers, straddled him, cupped his chin, leaned down to press their lips together—and stopped. The last time he was this close to this face, Envy had a fist full of blond hair in his grasp and was smirking at Ed’s snarling, bleeding form. He’d never be this close again, not like this; so he sat up, slid his fingers beneath the shirt and across his chest, the skin rough where scars continued to heal and yet pleasantly warm.

Envy gulped down the urge to press his face against that warm chest and hold him as a child would a teddy bear, burned the thought as time-wasting and ridiculous, and drew his fingers farther down. Slowly, and getting slower, in swirls and zigzags, past the rigid muscles of Ed’s abdomen but always slow as if he were afraid to keep going. He sat back, frowned, and kept going anyway, working his fingers into Ed’s crotch, eyes flitting up to see if the boy would stir. And when he didn’t, Envy pulled his hand away, sat all the way back on the linoleum slab of a floor, and sighed, slapping his forehead with his palm.

He really was a desperate idiot.

‘Just fuck him’? Easy for Lust to say. As if sex was everything. She’d probably been mocking him for getting all worked up over a human, and he’d swallowed it up because he just couldn’t stop his damn self from _wanting_.

And what he wanted just then, through all the self-loathing and half-hearted disgust, was to lie down next to the boy and bury his face in Ed’s chest, not really sleeping, but imagining what it would be like to have the alchemist snuggle him back.

 

“How far did you go?”

Nothing escaped Lust’s attention. Not when she towed Gluttony around. It was stupid of Envy not to have known better. She was amused nonetheless.

“Oh? What makes you think I did anything?” He feigned bemusement but didn’t feel like dealing with her. He had taken a few too many blows to his ego that night than he cared to admit, and he surely wasn’t up to losing. Again.

Lust smiled. “What else could you be doing with a sleeping Elric in your arms? That, and Gluttony can smell desperation from miles away.” She patted Gluttony’s head. Envy let his grin fade.

“You saw me.”

“I did.”

Envy huffed and set his gaze on Central’s late evening sky, the lights of various apartments flickering out in batches, with long pauses in between. The wind was cool and tasted of a rain to come. It made Envy desire Edward’s warmth again, the warmth that was there when Envy had succumbed and leaned his body against the boy’s, wrapping Ed’s arm around his waist so the homunculus could close his eyes and pretend. And in that space, his breathing slowed and his mind stilled, except for one singular thought.

 _Stop_.

Only, if Ed hadn’t begun to wake up, Envy could have stayed there for hours.

It was weakness, he knew, his biting the bullet for those few minutes, just to see what it was like. Certainly Lust would say so. Especially when, in all seriousness, Envy had panicked a little when Edward had begun to wake, rushing to dress him and get him back to his flat without being seen. Or rather, without Edward seeing him.

Envy snickered, letting a leg hang over the building’s edge and raising the other to his chest. “What else could I be doing, you ask? Heh, wouldn’t you like to know.”

Lust folded her arms but said nothing. Gluttony swayed, glancing between them and a finger to his lips. He stared at Lust curiously when she chuckled.

“I don’t much care what you do to the Fullmetal boy, so long as he stays alive. But seeing you like this,” the smile returned, the gleam of more laughter in her eyes, “I just thought—”

Envy was standing then, a hand around Lust’s throat, his teeth bared. She was dangling a few feet in the air and didn't flinch, but never did the glitter of amusement leave her eyes. He tightened his fist, shaking. “What?” he growled. “That you could help me? I don’t work for your amusement and I don’t want your pity.”

“Is that so? What a shame. You could use my help.”

“You don’t help people, Lust.”

“But you’re still very much in need of it.”

His eyes narrowed into slits. He’d lost then. This was the usual game. Almost four hundred years of I-told-you-so’s with that bitch and he still couldn’t get it right. He dropped her and she landed gracefully, making an art out of straightening her dress. Envy rolled his eyes. Gluttony tilted his head to the side.

Before disappearing, she deigned to drop him another hint: “Try using all the powers at your disposal next time. Oh and, leave him awake.”

When she was gone he sucked his teeth. Even he knew that.

 

Next time was months later, but Envy was convinced it would be never. When the warm and fuzzy feeling left him that night (which had been, really, as soon as Lust came to fetch gossip), he realized he really had looked absolutely stupid. What was he _doing_ , kidnapping the brat just to cozy up next to him? What was he expecting, that he'd wake up and all his problems would be solved? Pathetic. What a waste of time. Whatever backwards thinking had led to him believing he’d fallen in love with Edward Elric was a sick flaw in his design. He was _not_ in love with him, not _anyone_. He wasn’t even going to think about it.

But that resolution was like holding scissors to thread and never cutting. Envy couldn't bring himself to admit that he never would, after all. Any news regarding Edward made him visibly tenser and noticeably more irritated, for no reason besides that his name was mentioned. But when Lust proposed that Envy continue the task of spying on the boy while she checked on the riots in Liore, Envy couldn't bring himself to protest besides a few choked words and a look of utter surprise.

“It will be faster to deal with any uprisings against our favor with Gluttony around,” she explained to Father. But it was Envy she glanced and smirked at.

“B-But--” But it was done, it was _over_ , he didn’t want to play in Lust’s proposed cat and mouse game anymore, he didn’t even know what he could have possibly, realistically wished Edward would give him and the further Envy stayed away the better it was for his sanity—

But Father agreed and Envy swallowed, casting his gaze down, not even trusting himself to leer at the homunculi he felt better blaming as the origin of his circular thinking, and accepted his new task without a word.

 

Spying on Edward Elric was the most dangerous, tortuous thing he could have possibly done to his psyche. Never did Envy let him out of his sight. At one point he was cursing himself for being illogical and desperate; in the next he was making a mental note of the ingredients in the kid’s favourite sandwich.

In retrospect, it wasn’t difficult to see where he’d made the mistake.

He’d been sitting in a tree one day, disguised and well hidden, not so much watching Ed as he was, to his own chagrin, yet again turning over the idea of why he thought he was in love him. Homunculi weren’t supposed to feel love. They weren’t supposed to feel anything save what was related to their names. And yet, and yet…it was so goddamn _irritating_! He was at the point of clawing his own eyes out and ripping them to shreds with his own teeth if only to lessen the maddening pain of seeing Edward’s grinning face every day.

A voice called for Ed and Envy started, watching with only vague intrigue the blond girl that approached. Wait a minute…

Where had Alphonse gone?

Envy sat up, frowning and continuing to observe. The girl had her arms akimbo, her voice loud but words mostly inaudible. Ed seemed to be, to Envy’s slight amusement, trying to make himself smaller in her presence, until she pouted, sighed, and drew him into a hug.

And Envy watched, the bile rising in his throat, when Ed raised his arms and hugged her back.

A simple, blameless action. He shouldn’t have thought much of it. He shouldn’t have thought anything of it. But he knew, he knew, he _knew._ Two months watching the boy while in love with the boy, and any bastard could have known.

Envy was shaking.

The excuses that kept him just sane enough shot up to the outer edges of his rage and burst into millions of tiny shards, each one a fantasy that then erupted into flames and ended in ash.

Ed withdrew from the hug, intertwining his fingers with hers.

Envy simply withdrew.

 

He wanted to kill her, that damn human, forcing him to truly live out the epitome of his name. _Fuck her._ That _bitch._

He wanted her beating heart in his hands as he cackled at her dead, bloody form, ripped in half, straight down the middle, her limbs in chunks and scattered. And it would be slow, so slow, she’d scream for hours and never know why it had to happen to her, and Envy would just laugh.

But the most ironic, disgusting thing of all was that Envy didn’t do it—wouldn’t—because of what it would do to Ed.

Envy bristled, burned, ground his teeth together so hard he cracked them. Central’s homicide count tripled for a full month while Envy seethed, and Father himself had to reprimand him, and still he shook and screamed in his mind. Nothing in the world could be more unfair. If there was ever a time he hated himself and his weakness, it was then.

But Father never rescinded his command, so Envy continued to watch Ed because he had to, Ed’s out-of-character awkwardness when she kissed him in public, his smiles to her laughter. They also argued like hell, and for a time Envy had hoped against hope that he was wrong—that _whatever_ it was (because naming it would be admitting it existed) that was going on between his pipsqueak and that… _girl_ was only a figment of his imagination.

But then she would have to travel to another part of the country for a time, going where the automail commissions led her, and there would be no way for Envy to lie to himself. Each time, Edward would stay until she boarded the train, holding her close, as if sure that that meeting would be their last.

And the one time Envy dared to watch them up close, the sheer concern he saw in Ed’s eyes made something ache terribly within him. He ran away. And when alone, the memory of lying next to the boy’s warm body faded, and Envy shook, gritting his teeth and shutting his eyes.  
  
 _Monster_.

To Edward, it was a cold fact nothing in the world could fix. Envy would never be anything more to him. To hope would be destruction. Envy took away from others what he couldn’t have himself. What he could never get himself. A pathetic cycle, unchangeable.

And then Envy had an idea.

 

Almost 400 years of observation and imitation had primed him for just this. It was child’s play and he should have just done it the first time.

Winry was gone, had left Central three weeks ago, and the brothers had spent their down time researching a lead from their last mission. Except this particular day, it was only Al researching, Ed sitting alone in his apartment, two stacks of books, a box of tissue, and boundless papers and scattered notes at his side. Cross-legged on the bed he sat, pen in hand as he frowned at the book that lie open in his lap—until Envy burst into the room.

Ed started, blinking in confusion. “…Winry?”

‘Winry’ stared, then, thinking quickly, dropped her bags to the floor and ran over to his bedside. “Are you okay?” she asked, snatching up his automail limbs and testing their flexibility with every attempt to inject honest, startled concern into her ministrations.

“I-I’m fine! What are you—”

“I ran into Al after an emergency commission and he told me something was wrong!” Envy blurted, continuing to poke and prod. “I was going to find out if you were here anyway, but—”

Ed jumped suddenly and shivered. Envy pulled back, hesitating.

“Your hands…”

Ed clasped the hand that was used to touch his forehead and frowned. “Why are you so cold?”

The concern in the alchemist’s eyes was back then, the very same that made Envy both want to curl into a ball and hide from having to seem him like that, and snap Winry’s spine with his bare hands, one vertebrae at a time.

“I’m not cold,” he nearly spat, unable to find a steady balance between the two. “You have a fever!” And he snatched his arms away and stood.

“But if you don’t want my help I’ll just be on my way.” The tool box slung over the shoulder, the back turned. He had barely trusted himself to look the alchemist in the eye. What had he been _thinking_? Why was he even _there_?

Monster, _monster_ —

“Wait!”

One word, one ounce of care, and he had been back at the boy’s beck and call like a damn Labrador. The hope of being wanted would have been painfully obvious to anyone watching. He could almost hear Lust chuckling in the background.

“Don’t leave.” Ed’s voice, muffled, his head buried into Envy’s back. “I’m sorry…”

“Idiot.” Hands clenched and unclenched. It had been a struggle just to keep his voice firm. He couldn’t afford to turn around. “I’m just…worried about you. Will you let me do that, at least?” The thumping in his chest went a mile per minute, but only Gluttony would have been able to smell the fear. “Besides,” Envy replied, dropping his voice to something gentler, or perhaps sad, “there’s nothing to be sorry for besides your love for trying to get yourself killed.”

The alchemist clenched Envy’s arms tighter. “…I know.”

Then Envy _did_ turn around. This wasn’t like him.

“…Ed—”

“What if Al and I,” he started, dropping his hands to his sides and centering his gaze to the floor, “what if…we die and never get our bodies back?”

“Ed—”

“Our last mission involved hunting down some sick alchemist that…well... By the time Al and I got there—” The blond alchemist hesitated, as if unsure if he wanted to say more. His lips thinned into a line in an awkward, almost hesitant frown, but he continued, quieter, as if he were mumbling at a funeral. “There were _bodies,_ everywhere we stepped, and not a soul left to save. We’d been—too late—”

His voice hitched, as if he was going to start crying, but he didn’t. Instead his knuckles paled with the force he was using to tighten them.

“—and I found myself thinking, ‘what if he’s better that way, safer even? He’d never have to feel his body cut—” Edward gulped down hard, briefly shut golden, tearing eyes, “cut into pieces, and no one would ever have to see that of him.’”

And in a much smaller voice almost as fragile as a whisper, after he allowed himself time to breathe, and shoved away the _painworryangst_ that bubbled up when he doubted everything he added, “… _I_ wouldn’t have to see that of him. Only…” And Ed chuckled, a dark sardonic chuckle that surprised even Envy. “Only that’s not right, is it? I shouldn’t be worrying about that. Because right now he can’t feel _anything—_ ”

Edward’s voice broke.

Envy could hear it, as clean as if someone had snapped a twig in half. And he didn’t understand. Why the hell did _he_ feel bad? _He_ had nothing to do with it, it wasn’t _his_ fault that the stupid kid had tried to play god in bringing his dead mom back to life. Edward had failed, Alphonse had failed, and now they had to suffer just like everyone else, just like _he_ had to, because they couldn’t get what they desperately wanted. So they had a fucking price to pay, so what? Everyone suffered, it hurt like hell but everyone did, even stupid goddamn cockroaches. Not even a single, damned homunculus was exempt. Because someone or something with tactics far crueler and more manipulative than Envy could ever dream of had made it so, and that was that. Humans loved to ‘bounce back’ all the time and believe there was something in the world to be happy about, and it didn’t make any sense. To hope for anything was just inviting hurt to your doorstep.

And yet still— _still_ —even knowing that, there was still something inside him, something that begged and pleaded with life itself. He would do anything for the chance to exist in some other reality, where happiness was more than some tragic ideal and he wouldn’t have to _want_ and never receive anymore. It was enough to make him want to be human, if only to be able to _believe_ and hope like _they_ could, instead of having to suffice with just _looking_ like them.

Cruel and manipulative, indeed.   

Watching Edward there like that, not shouting or fighting or snarking or laughing or protecting or just goddamn _standing_ , but like that, _vulnerable,_ even if after months and months he couldn’t rationalize to himself just why he even bothered, Envy felt he had to do something. Anything—

So he drew him into a hug.

Edward wasn’t quite sobbing, he’d never let himself do so in front of Winry, not yet, not when she had so much faith in him and was trying her hardest not to worry about him, but he was shaking, and his breaths drew in at uneven intervals, growing all the more erratic and hitched the tighter Envy hugged. Envy wanted to just hug it all away, even when a voice snapped at him the ridiculousness of the concept of feeling pain because _someone else was feeling pain_.

That voice was growing quieter and quieter, though. In the end, he just wanted to stop hurting, right? So if by some ridiculous rationalization hugging Edward Elric helped make his own pain go away, or at least subside a little, why not do it then? Why not? Just for a moment?

“I—”

Edward’s voice was muffled when he spoke, but no less pained.

“—don’t want us to die—” 

\--and in the next moment Envy was shaking, too, visibly shaking; it took all his strength not to shove Elric away from him and puke and gag. This is what the little bastard did to him, made him want something so disgusting, so _beneath him_ , as to want to be _human_ , even for the briefest of moments. Made him hope. Hope beyond all possible hope—

When was he going to get it? When was he going to understand? Hope was a perfect lie, leading only to the greatest despair, and the more he allowed himself to want Edward Elric, the more it was going to hurt.

He couldn’t make Edward feel better. And if Edward knew who he was really hugging in that awful instant, he wouldn’t even give Envy the chance to try.

He had to sever it. He had to remind himself who and why and _what_ he was for all the revolting heartache in the world.

So in one swift motion, Envy dipped his head and pressed his lips against Edward’s, ignoring everything but their warmth, so soothing, so _comfortable_ ; suddenly he understood why humans sat by fireplaces. This is what it would be like, this is what it _couldn’t_ be like, but Envy only closed his eyes, feeling the boy relax in his grip and open his mouth to kiss him back.

And somewhere in the mix, their hands intertwined, and Envy squeezed and squeezed, as if to leave a part of himself there that he didn’t want back.

It wasn’t what Winry would do. Envy had watched them enough to know that. But it was far, far better than words: a moment, petrified in time.

And then, just as forcefully, he ripped his hands away, dropping his head and staring away so blonde bangs could hide tearing eyes and reddened cheeks.

“If you don’t want to die, then don’t.”

Edward just stared, wide-eyed, then wistful. “Winry—”

“You _promised_. You wouldn’t get yourself killed, you and Al would come home with your bodies back…You’re simply not allowed to break that promise. Do you understand?”

_Not Winry never Winry not even close—_

“…Yeah.”

_\--leave it all behind—_

There was a pause, and the silence stretched. Envy was not going to look up. He was going to play his part. He was simply attempting to stay in character.

Winry Rockbell loved Edward Elric.

Envy did not.

Could not.

And there was nothing more to that story.

“Open your eyes.” Ed’s voice was pleading as the teen bent down as if to stare up at the wilted figure. “…Please?”

Envy opened them.

Ed was smiling at him.

“I shouldn’t have made you worry about me. And—and I’m sorry. So, don’t cry, okay?”

And Envy really was scared then, even if there were thick quilts of shame and inner loathing draped on top of that, because despite his best efforts, he _still_ wanted to transform into his normal self and beg Edward to repeat those words again.

_Shut. Up. Envy._

Every consonant spat into his veins. In his mind the spittle flew from his mouth, the rage ripped a hole where his heart would be and did not dare regenerate.

But Winry, after wiping her tears with her sleeve, just folded her arms across her chest. “At least get some rest. You’re burning up. You _should_ be sleeping.”

“I can sleep when I’m dead.”

The words were out of his mouth barely half a second before he realized what he had said, before he was reddening, stuttering, and waving raised hands in defense. But all he got in return was a pout and a groan.

“Why are you so stubborn? It’s not going to help you to do anything when you’re sick—”

“I’ll be _fine_ , stop worrying already! Besides, Al said he’d pick up some medicine for me on his way back.”

“But _Ed—_ ”

“And you _did_ just kiss me. Who’s the sick one now?”

She flinched; Ed smirked. She opened her mouth again—

“Oh man, it’s so hard to sleep with all this worry in the room,” Ed loudly announced, taking exactly three exaggerated steps back to his bed before plopping down onto the mattress. “If only I had a quiet place I could rest my head…”

With a resigned sigh, Winry lifted her toolbox from the floor and slung the bag over her back. “ _Alright_ , alright.” Turned on her heel. “Call me the minute you think you need a check-up.”

“Yeah.”

A step forward, an outreached hand.

“And don’t forget to oil your limbs, okay?”

“Uh-huh.”

She swallowed. A hand turned the knob—

“Winry?”

The non-regenerated heart beat and beat and beat.

“…Thanks.”

 

Walking in there, he hadn’t known what he wanted. It wasn’t what Lust wanted, that was for sure. But sitting on a roof, staring out over the evening Central skyline, he realized. And he decided.

It wasn’t worth it to love him. He could beg to the heavens for decades, and not a damn thing would change. He would hurt and hurt and hurt and the world would just laugh at him. And if Edward ever realized the truth, Envy would be better off just killing himself. Better to just cut the ties now.

It was easiest to think in absolutes. There was no room for doubt there, and so no room for hope.

Envy did not want Edward Elric.

A perfect lie, indeed.


End file.
